


Sometimes The World Is Way Too Loud

by revenblue



Series: [collection] but you keep spinning 'round me just the same (Perryshmirtz) [124]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Second Person, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Shut Up Kiss, this was originally vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26246656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revenblue/pseuds/revenblue
Summary: All you want is to drown out your own thoughts, and your voice saying them.
Relationships: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus
Series: [collection] but you keep spinning 'round me just the same (Perryshmirtz) [124]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/746841
Comments: 12
Kudos: 64





	Sometimes The World Is Way Too Loud

Fumbling for the nearest disc, you put it on without caring what's on it, only that it's loud, and turn the volume on your stereo up to full. One of Vanessa's screaming bands blares from the speakers. Right now, the sound is welcome, if only to drown out your own thoughts, and your voice saying them.

Ears ringing, you return to your half-built inator. Maybe now you can get it done before Perry the Platypus shows up. That would be nice, to be _prepared_ for your thwarting today.

He shows up early anyway, touching your leg so you know he's here. How can he be so _casual_ about everything?

You swallow, shaking your head and turning back to the inator. You're not _ready_. Haven't even finished your inator, let alone started on your monologue. It's always been easier to plan your monologue when you know what the inator's supposed to _do_.

All he does is nod like that's somehow a reasonable request, even though it _can't_ be because it's coming from _you_ , and then take a seat over by the edge of the room. He doesn't give any indication he's heard any of your muttering to yourself either, not that he ever _does_. At least he's not _asking_ about it.

What would you even say to him if he did? No, better that he's not bringing it up, you're not sure you could monologue right now anyway.

Putting him out of your mind, you turn your attention back to your inator, blinking away the tears you're too weak to stop. Pathetic, that's what you are. A _schnitzel_. Can't take over the Tri-State Area, can't move on from your _backstories_ , can't even get your _inator_ done on time. You don't _deserve_ a nemesis like _him_. Like Perry the Platypus. _He_ is so competent, so professional, so easy to _appreciate_ , everything _you_ are not. Everything you could never be.

The only thing you have to _show_ for your efforts, for your whole entire _life_ , is your _daughter_. She's the best thing to ever happen to you, and you wish you could have been a better father. Instead, you're standing _here_ , your nemesis watching you struggle not to fall apart again.

You don't know how to not be a failure.

Tears blur your eyes again and you hammer harder at the inator's casing. Catching a finger under it, you curse yourself with the words you don't dare use for anyone else, only because you _know_ Perry the Platypus won't hear them. They're not for him.

He's right beside you anyway, taking your injured hand in his gentle paws and tracing his fingers across your skin, looking up at you with that sad expression you hate seeing on his face. Pulling out a plaster from who-knows-where, he wraps it around your finger. He knows as well as you do that it won't _do_ anything, your arms are still as titanium as they were last week, but he's doing it _anyway_.

Why does he even bother? It's not like you're anyone _special_ , just the guy he _beats up_ every day, just his _nemesis_. He's supposed to _hate_ you, isn't he? So why is he suddenly acting all _concerned_?

Wrenching your hand free, you turn your back on him and pick up your tools again, gritting your teeth. You almost regret turning the music up this loud, now. Depriving yourself of your _words_ , while _he's_ never _needed_ them... not your best decision ever. That's why you refuse to look at him. Maybe if you _ignore_ him he'll get bored and _leave_. You can only _hope_. Being _alone_ again has to be better than _this_ , you're sure of it.

His weight presses against your leg instead and you freeze in place, trembling. What does he _want_? Why can't he just leave you _alone_ , like everyone _else_ does, you're _used_ to that. But _no_ , he's _staying_ , his little _arms_ wrapped around your shin, and you want to kick him off but he's not even _thwarting_ you so you _can't_. Why does he have to _care_ so much?

Falling to the floor, your knees giving out from under you, you shove Perry the Platypus away and press your back to the inator. Why couldn't he just _leave_? You suck in air, heart racing. All you _wanted_ was some _peace_ from your _thoughts_.

Now, he's seeing you like _this_. Weak, _pathetic_ , a _failure_. A _schnitzel_. Evil science was supposed to be the one thing you're not _terrible_ at, something you could _show_ Mother and have her be _proud_ of, and you can't even do _that_. What are you even _good_ for if you can't even make a simple _inator_ without screwing up? Mother was right, you don't _deserve_ kindness.

You cover your face, a screwdriver still clutched in one hand, trying to stop the tears running down your cheeks. The thought _he_ might see them is too much to bear. Would he leave? Abandon you, like so many others? Or would he _pity_ you? You're not sure which is worse.

All you have left is that he can't _hear_ your sobs over the music. You can't hold them in any more, your breath catching, but there's still a chance _he_ doesn't know. Isn't there?

Then he pulls your hand down and you can't _pretend_ any more.

A fresh wave of tears blurs your vision so you can't even tell what he's _thinking_ , and you hate yourself for it. _Crying_ in front of your _nemesis_. The one thing you'd told yourself you'd _never_ do and here you are, breaking yet another promise. You wouldn't blame him if he decides you're not worth the trouble. The only to blame would be _yourself_ , for _lying_ to him for this long, for taking up his time when he could be fighting someone _else_. Someone _better_.

He's still staring at you, and while you can't _see_ his expression, you _can_ clearly picture the contempt he's sure to have on his face by now, the way his lip would curl. Or, not _lip_ , whatever platypuses have. Whatever. The point is, this is _you_ he's looking at, why _wouldn't_ he look down on you now that he knows the truth?

 _Literally_ look down on you, he's walking closer and you have to look _up_ to keep him in view now, and then he's-

Is he _hugging_ you?

Burying your face in his shoulder, you hold him close, belatedly realising you didn't push him away when you _should_ have. Why didn't you? Probably because you're so _pathetic_ , like Mother always used to tell you. You're pathetic and _he's_ still _here_ , a solid weight on your chest, and for the first time today you feel like you can actually _breathe_.

You can't bring yourself to complain like you _should_ so you let it happen, filling your lungs with the familiar scent of his fur until it hurts, hoping he stays a few minutes longer. It's been _so long_ since anyone _hugged_ you. Since anyone _wanted_ to. Does _he_ -

No, don't think about that. Don't think at all. Enjoy it while it lasts, because you won't have it for long.

By the time the disc finishes, you've almost convinced yourself he _does_ mean this. His little _paw_ rubs circles into your shoulder, his tail's wrapped around your waist, and he's... purring? Platypuses can purr? You're not complaining, it's comforting, like being back with the ocelots, you're just _surprised_. He doesn't seem like the type. And by _type_ you mean, well, _ocelot_.

Tracing patterns into his soft fur, you swallow, working up the nerve to tell him to go. He has to leave _eventually_ , and it's easier when it's _your_ idea. Deep breath, lift your head, speak. "Perry the Platypus-"

He cuts you off with a kiss. Well, not really a _kiss_ , more smooshing his bill against your lips, but even _you_ can't deny that's what he's going for.

And you're _selfish_. You take what little affection you get, every scrap you don't even _deserve_ to have, and hold it close to your heart. So of _course_ you're going to kiss him back. You may not _deserve_ to, but what kind of dummkopf _wouldn't_ take the opportunity to kiss _Perry the Platypus_?

"Why-" you mumble into his mouth, your traitorous voice ruining the moment, just like it always does. Can't even stay _quiet_ for _one minute_. This is why you needed to drown it out, because you can't-

His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping away your tears, and you're not _used_ to anyone _caring_ about you. Or touching you at all, thwartings aside. You don't _deserve_ it. The only physical contact you're _supposed_ to get is when he's _fighting_ you, but here he is, doing it _anyway_.

Weak as you are, you whimper, leaning into his little _hand_. You forgot how _gentle_ he can be when he's not kicking your hiney. "Stay?" The word slips out before you think, your voice rough from crying, and you curse yourself. You're a _dummkopf_. That's the _opposite_ of what you should be asking for, why aren't you asking him to _leave_? Why can't you just accept you're supposed to be _alone_?

Taking your head in his paws, he nods, and... is he _smiling_? He _is_. Why would he be smiling at _you_ though, it's not like you're anything _special_ , just a failure of an evil scientist-

An evil scientist who's _kissing his nemesis_. That's what you're doing, because he was _so close_ and you've wanted to for so long, even though you don't deserve it. You _don't_. The sooner he realises that, the better. He deserves a better nemesis, a better _friend_ , someone who's _not you_ -

"Why _me_?" you mumble into him, your voice cracking. Where did he get the idea you were anything other than what you _are_?

He takes your hand in his paws now, bringing your injured finger to his bill. It has just as much of an effect as the plaster did, that being _nothing_ , but from the look in his eye it's clear he _knows_ that. So why does he _bother_?

Then he moves your hand to his neck, your thumb across his _throat_ , and you wince. Why does he think you'd _hurt_ him? Sure, you're his _nemesis_ , even if you don't _deserve_ to be, but there are _rules_. You're supposed to _trap_ him first, and give him your _monologue_ \- Does he _want_ you to hurt him? Brushing your thumb over his cheek instead, since he's not letting you pull your hand away, you watch his expression.

From the _look_ he gives you, that's the exact point he's trying to make. That you _won't_ hurt him. Unless he's _thwarting_ you, but that's _different_. He's _asking_ to be hurt when you're fighting him. Mostly by hurting _you_ , and he's not doing that _now_ so he's _not_ asking.

For him to do _this_ , to hold your hand to his _neck_... "Do you... _trust_ me?" you have to ask, hard as that is to believe. It's the only thing that makes _sense_. "Is that it?"

He nods, touching his bill to your nose.

"Perry the Platypus," you mumble, and you're not going to let him _interrupt_ you, not this time. This is too _important_. Tears prick at your eyes, and you _let_ them fall, too tired to hide them. Too tired to keep _pretending_. Your hands come up to settle in his soft fur, anchoring yourself with his steady presence. "I... I'm not _up_ to thwarting today. Sorry to _disappoint_ -"

Rolling his eyes, he climbs into your lap and _stays_ there, making himself comfortable, like he has no intention of _leaving_. And he's _purring_ again. Seriously, since when can he _purr_? He's a _platypus_ , not an ocelot, not like _you_ -

Except _you_ can't even purr. All _you_ are is a failure of an _ocelot_ , a failure of an evil scientist- You push that out of your mind. Not the time, Heinz. "You're sure?"

He stretches across your chest with a yawn, arms curling loosely around the back of your neck, more at ease than you've ever seen him. That's your answer, apparently. He's sure. Of course he is, he's _Perry the Platypus_ , you've never known him to _hesitate_. Even when it's _you_.

Selfishness wins out and you hold him tight, taking what you don't deserve, what he's giving you _anyway_. Maybe one day you'll be able to repay him. For now, you breathe, your thoughts finally falling silent.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Lonely Dance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DbqFcElhO2k) by Set It Off, which is very much a Heinz song.
> 
> Perryshmirtz server, and my playlists (including the one for Heinz), in series description.


End file.
